Where Did You Go?
by Josh Shrimp
Summary: There's an urban legend going around lately. It's been linked to a number of disappearances. They say if you play Turf War in a very certain way, you might just disappear into another world.


"You've heard about it, right? No? I can't be the only one who has."

A young inkling boy talks with a friend over the phone. His older sister can hear him speaking from her room across the hall. She merely listens as she muses to herself about how he's growing up.

The boy continues his conversation, speaking louder as his excitement grows.

"You just have to play Turf War, but you gotta go into the Lobby with your eyes closed, the WHOLE time. And, and, and then..."

The girl figured her brother must be chatting about some sort of urban legend. They all seemed to get their fifteen minutes of fame.

It suddenly sounded like the boy was arguing. But that was nothing unusual. He often argued with his friends, but that's just how young boys had their fun. Or so the girl surmised.

"Yes it is! That's what happened to all those kids! The other world is real! Why are you so dumb?! Augh!"

The girl chuckled to herself. She always found his fits of anger amusing.

Suddenly the girl's door flew open and her brother stormed in and started yelling.

"Oakley, I have to go! I have to go see Todd, Timmy, and Ted at the Square, right now! Tell mom for me if she asks."

It looked like he got dressed in a hurry. His shirt was half tucked in and his Tentatek Splattershot was hanging out of his unzipped backpack. She remembered he only chose that Splattershot to emulate her own signature weapon, but of course, she used the standard model. Oakley sat up and smiled at him.

"Okay, Dewey. Have fun. And be safe! And call me if anything happens!"

He nodded and quickly zipped away.

She could hear him running back and forth around the house trying to find his things. She closed her door to muffle the noise as she waxed nostalgic about him. She used to have to go with him to play Turf War, before he really had friends to go with. She would show him the ropes and he would praise her for being the coolest. She missed those days a little. Of course, he hasn't grown up too much. Dewey was still too young to control his squid form, and he had to play in the Squidling League under strict supervision. But he still loved it and talked about his "war stories" non-stop. She thought it was so cute.

Eventually he found whatever he was looking for and ran for the door.

"Okay, I'm going! Bye bye bye bye bye!"

Oakley called out to him one last time, "Don't be back too late or mom will be mad.", before he slammed the door shut.

Eventually the sun came down, but Dewey still hadn't returned. Oakley and her mother were sick with worry. They tried to call his phone countless times and left numerous messages, but none were ever answered. They contacted the parents of his friends, and the boys explained that they had no idea what happened to him. They entered a game of Turf War together, but when the game started, Dewey just wasn't there. He left behind an empty space. One boy, Ted, insisted that Dewey must be hiding somewhere to play a trick on them, but Oakley thought that if this were case, he was going way too far with it.

Two days passed and no clue to Dewey's whereabouts turned up. He was officially declared missing. The police questioned the boys and questioned Oakley, to try to find a reason why Dewey might have run away, but none of them came up with anything reasonable. In time everyone began to accept that Dewey wasn't coming back. His family were the last to give up hope. A little over a month had passed and the accepted belief was simply that Dewey was dead.

Oakley wanted so badly to believe he was still living, but it was becoming so hard to be strong. She only wanted to see him again, but knew that she likely never would. She never did much besides stare into space anymore. Her body and heart seemed to alternate between just two things, pain and numbness. She couldn't stop her sad feelings, but at least she didn't cry as much.

Oakley was in bed not sleeping one afternoon, her usual thing these days, when her phone began to ring. She silenced her phone weeks ago, not having the energy to speak to anyone. But it still lit up. She simply observed as the light glowed against her wall before tiring of it, shifting her gaze downwards. She stared in the direction of her phone briefly before turning away. Suddenly she jolted upward. She couldn't believe the image that passed her eyes. Oakley only saw it from an angle, but it looked like her phone said, "Dewey".

The phone was still ringing, but for how much longer? She jumped from her bed, nearly smashing her face into her desk. She grabbed the phone and confirmed, it was her brother calling.

Oakley immediately answered the phone without even thinking of what to say. Luckily the words chose themselves.

"Who is this?!"

She was answered by a period of silence. Seconds that felt like hours. An overwhelming torrent of emotions ripped around inside her. Terror, hope, anxiety, and anger. But soon a voice replies. A voice Oakley recognizes. Dewey's.

Her heart nearly stops as feeling cuts back into it, but she listens on. Her brother's voice came through garbled, but Oakley could just barely understand him.

"Help me Oakley! I'm stuck in the game and I can't get out. I'm at the Square! Please, I'm sorry, just save me! I-"

The call abruptly cut off. Tears streamed down her face as Oakley clutched at her phone trying to squeeze out answers with no one on the line.

"Don't hang up. Dewey, no. Why? Please talk to me…"

The phone drops to the floor and Oakley collapses into her palms. A million thoughts raced through her mind. What does this all mean? Why would he call now? Was this all just a joke or trick? Suddenly she desperately grabs at the phone and tries to call back. No one picks up, just like the last hundred times she's tried. She placed the phone back on her dresser in dejection.

"What was that call? Am I just going crazy from grief?"

It seems that her phone didn't even log any incoming calls. This had to just be her imagination. Whoever was talking was barely audible, but she felt like she caught every word. What was he even talking about? The Square? They searched that place for days. It was the most obvious place he could be, but no one caught so much as a glimpse of him. "I'm stuck in the game"? What could that mean?

She was just about to resign herself to the belief she had undergone a brief mental breakdown, and try to forget the whole traumatizing experience, when something came to mind.

"Turf War?"

She remembered Dewey saying something about it the day he disappeared. But he was always talking about Turf War. What was it? Some urban legend. She tried her hardest to recall, but it wasn't coming to her. But she wasn't ready to let it end here. She logged onto her computer and started looking up rumors about the Square. There were hundreds. Mostly idol sightings and other nonsense. She kept digging and continued to narrow her search, until something jogged her memory.

"Keep your eyes closed before entering the Lobby. WARNING. DANGEROUS. DO NOT TRY."

Oakley was interested. She had to get as many of the details as possible. The method was disgustingly simple. Just like it said in the title, all you had to do was keep your eyes shut from the moment you step into the Lobby up until you start a game of Turf War. If done successfully, you end up in a place they call "the other world". The page attributed the disappearance of several children over the past two years to mishaps in the other world. Oakley would've normally regarded something like this as deplorable, but under the circumstances, she couldn't but help but think there was a connection.

She had to at least investigate this. It was hard to tell in her darkened room, but it was actually quite late. Should she wait until morning? No. Dewey was waiting. She headed off immediately in the dead of night.

Oakley arrived in an eerily empty Inkopolis Square. She'd never been here at night before. There was an unsettling quiet about the place. The way signs would creak with the blowing wind and how the deep shadows made it seem like there was always someone moving just outside of her vision, they made her feel vulnerable and prone to a surprise. The Lobby was always opened, so it was strange that no one else was around. She might be less nervous otherwise, but being alone made performing the ceremony, if it could be called such a thing, much easier.

She stepped up to the doors of the Lobby and took one last look around, to confirm no one was there. She shut her eyes and moved forward. The automatic doors opened for her, and she waved her arms back and forth trying to feel for a wall. It took longer than she thought. She pressed herself against it as she tried to remember the layout of the building. If memory served, she just needed to turn left and get into the first door on her right. She felt foolish hugging the walls and tapping against everything with her flailing arms as she passed, but it didn't matter.

Oakley finally managed to find the frame of the door and intuitively placed her hands on the handle. A thought occurred to her. If no one was here, she may be sitting here for quite a while, completely blind before enough players came for the game to start. But those fears were immediately alleviated as she opened the door. She could hear a number of people speaking, like the room was already full. She almost thought to open her eyes right then, but reminded herself the ceremony would end in failure if she had.

Oakley felt embarrassed as she patted around for a place to sit. She wondered what the others must think of her. She heard them suddenly laugh altogether, and she assumed it was at her expense. She tried not to let it bother her, and settled with just sitting quietly until the match began. As time passed, she wondered why no one spoke to her. She assumed at least one would have a question about what she was doing, although she had every intention to lie. It was odd, but one less hassle wasn't a bad thing.

Oakley unexpectedly let out a yelp, but kept her eyes closed. It didn't seem to bother the others, as they continued their gibbering. Oakley felt a weird tingle on her back, under her shirt and sweater. Something moving. She stood up and tried to shake it off, but it remained attached and it continued to crawl. It felt long and ugly, like it had millions of legs, all moving mechanically in sync. She patted at her back desperately, but to no avail. She even reached under her sweater and tried to grab it, but nothing was there.

Was this part of the ritual? Did this mean it was working? There was nothing about this in the article. She decided to just sit back down and endure the discomfort, even as much as every worming motion made her want to scream.

And without warning, it vanished. She was partly glad, but something else followed. The voices around her started getting louder and more indistinguishable. They were too clamorous for her to understand before, but now it was like they weren't even saying words. And now the sound didn't seem to come from just one direction. It was surrounding her and getting closer. Her palms sweat as she clutched her knees, unsure of what would happen next. The voices seemed just inches from her face when they swiftly vanished all at once.

She stood up and motioned her arms around to try to feel for anyone nearby. There was no one, and when she reached behind her, she found the chair was also gone. A cool breeze hits her and she realizes she must be outside. Hesitant, she opens her eyes.

Oakley finds herself in a stage she's never seen before, and discovers she's been unknowingly holding her weapon the entire time. The field is entirely lit by moonlight, giving everything a gray and blue tint to it. There were large unidentifiable obstacles strewn all about without any order or consistency. They may been some type of machinery at some point, but now they seemed to be melting into the ground. Oakley was terrified. She could hardly even believe any of this was real, but she came this far, and resolved to take a look around. She stepped off the Spawn Point, taking the steps lowering into the main area. She feared something dangerous would come for her if she dared raise her voice, but she remembered what she came here for, and calls out loudly for Dewey.

As she makes her way around, completely unable to comprehend the layout of the land, she gets the sensation that she caught something moving in her peripheral vision. She knows she must be feeling paranoid, but she can't shake the impression that someone was actually there this time. Oakley didn't care how crazy she might seem at this point anymore, and demanded that whoever was there show themselves.

A figure came creeping out of the darkness and approached her. It appeared to be just an ordinary inkling. Oakley didn't expect him to reveal himself so easily. Even though he appeared harmless, she cautiously pointed her weapon at him because she wasn't taking any chances.

"W-What are you doing here? Who are you?!"

"Are you here to play?"

"What? No! I'm looking for my brother."

"Oh. You can have him back if you win."

"You have him?! Give him back, now!"

"Are you gonna shoot me?"

"I'll do a lot worse. Now where is he?!"

"He's around, but you won't find him…unless you win."

"Win what?! What are you talking about?!"

"Turf War."

"Turf War? Why?! What'd be the point?!"

"That's my condition. Now quit yelling. You're not as scary as you think."

Oakley lowered her weapon and thought about the offer.

"Is he really here?"

"He is."

"Can you prove it?"

"Isn't this where your search took you?"

She didn't see how she had a choice and simply agreed.

The inkling was pleased, but had more to say.

"Excellent. Now before we play, I should establish the rules. We'll be playing Turf War."

"I already figured."

"But it'll be just the two of us. We'll begin when you step back onto the Spawn Point. There's no inking allowed until we start, and most importantly if you get splat there is absolutely no respawning."

"Wait. What do you mean by-"

She wanted to ask about the rule about no respawning, but before Oakley could ask, the inkling slipped back into the darkness and disappear. She never got a clear answer, but it was pretty obvious what he meant.

She backed away from where he vanished, afraid to look away, but walking backwards didn't exactly make her feel safe either. She wandered around for a while, unsure of how to return to the spawn. Super Jumps don't work here, but luckily the raised platform holding the Spawn Point made a useful beacon in leading her in the right direction. This all made her consider that she might be under a serious disadvantage. She could spend the whole time spinning in circles, costing her the game. She wanted to take scouting the area more seriously, but she couldn't bear the thought of leaving her brother scared and alone any longer.

Oakley finally made her way to the Spawn Point, hoping she had miraculously formed a decent mental map of the area. It seemed unlikely. Staring down at the Spawn Point, she wondered what horrible thing would happen the moment she stepped on it. It was best not to think about it. She sighed and composed herself, and proceeded to jump on.

In defiance of her imagination, nothing seemed to happen. Oakley merely assumed this was acceptable and started inking the ground. It seemed monotonous at first. She wanted to be as quick and thorough as possible, but with no music and no competition in sight, the game was almost boring. Would they encounter each other at all? She'd prefer if they didn't.

She pondered over the matter a bit as she worked. If there's no respawning and there are only two players, in a way, winning the game is less about inking the ground, and really more about…eliminating the other player…

She stopped in her tracks, frozen by this disturbing realization. With her Splattershot silent, she was able to hear a sound in the distance. Something scraping across the ground, grating and crashing as it made its way closer. Oakley prepared for the attack, or at least she would have if she an idea how she could combat whatever horror was coming towards her. She inked as much ground as she could, filled her tank, and positioned herself to fire. The thing came into sight at last. It tore across the field at an alarming speed, as ink flung violently off of its body. What could it be? It was still a little unclear. It was fierce, whatever it was, but this was just a Turf War. That dirty creep wasn't sending monsters after her, was he? The figure appeared massive as it drew closer. Oakley felt threatened, but if this match would be settled in this one fight, she wouldn't run. The thing caught sight of her and drove into a flurry. As it rushed directly towards her, Oakley caught a clear glimpse of its body and the glimmer of its eyes.

"Is that…A KRAKEN?!"

Oakley immediately threw herself from her position, nearly stumbling onto the ground, and started fleeing in the other direction in despairing desperation. There was no fighting that thing. A Kraken was invincible. What was it doing here? They banned the stupid things. But why was she thinking about rules? As if they meant anything in this situation.

The Kraken caught up to her frightfully quickly. Running in a straight line was a mistake. She had seen Krakens before, but this one was in a class of its own. The beast seemed to accelerate as long as it kept going, so Oakley took as many sharp turns as she could. But this was making it difficult to ink the ground and swimming was the only way she could just barely keep out of its reach. Occasionally it came so close that it brushed against her hair and clothing. With the monster just a breath behind her, she could see just how grotesque it was. It wasn't swimming so much as dragging its humongous body forward with tooth and tentacle. It seemed less like it wanted to crush or smash her and more like it wanted to drag her into it.

Oakley gave it everything she has just to run. She was sweating and panting with exhaustion. Her legs and tentacles felt like they would snap at every turn. The pain and fear let her tears stream freely, but an end to this infinite sprinting seemed nowhere in sight. Meanwhile the Kraken was hot her trail, leaving a trail of grey ink completely carpeting the area behind them.

She scarcely had the means to preserve her own life. But the game. How could she possibly win like this? She hadn't thought of it before, but what if she loses? She was never told, but she bet it was bad. If she had the energy, should would curse this game for being so unfair. She had no clue what to do now. A small fragment of hope told her the Kraken form would eventually wear off, but it had been so long that this obviously wasn't the case.

She was beginning to feel faint. She was overheating and not getting enough oxygen. Her eyelids flickered as her consciousness grew weak. She tried to round another corner, but instead of spraying more ink, she ended up collapsing forward. She fell onto a metal box but didn't have enough sense to feel the impact. And by an amazing stroke of luck, she rebounded off of this box into a space beneath one of the structures. The Kraken harmlessly passed her by, and she could finally rest. Her coughs stung as she struggled to get air.

Her body was sore and in no shape to continue. She wanted to just lie here until the end. There was no reason to get back up. She couldn't possibly beat that monster and it was too late to win the Turf War anyway. Maybe if she lost, he'd just let her go. Even Oakley couldn't believe the lie she told herself.

Inside her cramped shelter, Oakley realized there was something else with her. Thankfully nothing alive. But something different than the other junk scattered around this wasteland. She moved it towards the light to confirm that it was another weapon set. She had little doubt that it was her brother's. Why would it be here? It was placed so neatly, surely the Kraken didn't dump it here himself. Then it hits her. There was a special rule for the Squidling League. Once a player has removed their gear, they have officially given up and other players aren't allowed to hurt them.

"Oh Dewey. How could you be so naïve?"

Oakley told herself that it wasn't Dewey's job to make hard decision or fight scary battles. He was just a kid. It was a grown-up's job to do those things for him, and she was his big sister. He needed her to be strong, now more than ever.

She took Dewey's Splattershot and strapped it on alongside her own. It was definitely unorthodox, but now she could ink twice as fast as anyone. She crawled out from her hiding place and started spraying in two directions as she ran through the stage.

In another end of the battlefield, the Kraken was getting irritated at having lost sight of his victim. He circled back to where he last saw her, thinking she must be hiding somewhere. He'd flush her out if she was. To his surprise, he found trails of her ink coating the area. She still thought she could win. He thought it was funny and pathetic at the same time, but it was good as long as he got his chase. He just needed to follow the ink and it'd lead straight to her. It was strange how much there was, but it warranted little concern.

Meanwhile Oakley raced down every corridor she could inking the ground and blasting away every bit of grey ink she came across. Her ankles hurt and she had a sharp pain her side, but she pushed through it. Just as she predicted the Kraken located her once again. This time, Oakley made a sharp turn before he could catch up. She was still inking all over, so he could still follow her trail, but he wouldn't have such an easy time keeping up with her. This annoyed the Kraken intensely, but he knew this stage very well. On her current path, he could effortlessly corner her.

Using her two weapons, Oakley could make a swimming path for herself and still cover the ground fairly well. However something was beginning to worry her. Although she was making plenty of turns, there didn't look to be any alternate routes. It was looking like she was just running down a winding tunnel. And her worst fears came true. With the Kraken a short distance away, she found herself in a dead end. At this rate, she would have to confront the Kraken directly. There was nowhere else to run. Oakley wasn't out of this fight yet. She took her Splattershots and began inking every bit of the ground that was still un-inked and actually started charging towards the Kraken as she did.

Taken aback by this irrational action, the Kraken stopped in its tracks. He laughed for a moment.

"Looks like she's finally given in."

The Kraken continued his course, fully intending to meet her head on. Oakley was visibly terrified, but she used it as fuel to run even faster. Just an instant from their collision, the Kraken itching to squeeze the life out of her, Oakley suddenly took off into the air.

She was flying in the air on an inkjet up and over all of the obstacles. She bombarded the field, far out of the Kraken's reach. Another fraction of a second and she would have been done for. If it weren't for Dewey's Tentatek variant of the Splattershot, she wouldn't have been able to fly in the first place. She was grateful for it. It was exactly what she needed. She was free to cover the stage and the Kraken could only helplessly watch from the ground.

Oakley's inkjet ran out of power and she launched back to where she left the Kraken. It readied to pounce, but a beeping sound suddenly alarmed and Oakley held her hand out to halt him.

"I've been timing the match from the start. It's been 3 minutes. It's over. From what I saw up there, I won. Call Judd if you want. I-I'm sure he'll agree."

The Kraken seemed to melt into goo before reforming back into an inkling, only much larger than before. He stomped up to Oakley and snatched her by the collar.

"You cheated!"

Oakley tremored as she hung. He was just as scary as his Kraken form.

"Y-You told me the rules, and I don't remember breaking any of them. You were a Kraken the whole. If anyone's a cheater, it's you."

He looks her sharply in her eyes and then drops her to the ground. He lets out a grunt of frustration and disappears. As Oakley stands back up, the whole stage dissipates like smoke and she finds herself standing in the middle of the Square. Across from her, staring in the other direction, appears to be a small boy. Oakley bites at her lip, trying to hold back her tears. She let's go and rushes toward the boy and hugs him. Dewey looks up to his sister and asks her how he got there and where he's been. She tells him it's all okay and nothing else matters.

They rode the bus home. Dewey fell asleep on the ride and nuzzled into his sister. Oakley was exhausted herself, but she decided she wasn't gonna take her eyes off of him until they were finally home. She pat his head and placed her arm gently around him.

They reached their stop at last. Only a few houses down from their home. Oakley tapped Dewey on his cheek.

"Wake up. We're home."

Oakley had no idea how to explain what happened to her mother. It wasn't very kind of her to leave so suddenly in the night, especially considering her mother's current situation. She held Dewey's hand tightly, smiled, and then opened the door.

She immediately sees her mother standing in the front room, her face tired and shocked. Oakley cries happily at her.

"I brought him home."

Her mother looked back strangely with an anxious expression. She takes Oakley's free hand and furrows her brow.

"Oakley, there's no one there."


End file.
